Wealth of Time Series Boxset

by Andre Gonzalez

  “So if we come to the tour, do we have to book our free nights right away?” Martin asked.

  “No. You can use them whenever you’d like within a month.”

  He turned to ask Sonya what she thought, but she was too busy studying the art that hung on the walls, likely suffering from an intense case of sensory overload from getting to live in the past.

  “I’ll have to check with my wife and get back with you,” he said. “But we’ll probably be here at four for the tour.”

  The man scoffed, likely at the suggestion that Martin had to run an idea by his wife. “Certainly.”

  Martin left the appalled man and joined Sonya across the room, now staring deep into the whipping flames in the fireplace.

  “So are we staying here?” Sonya asked casually, still lost in the flames.

  “I think so. They invited us to a hotel tour at four today for two nights free.”

  “And you agreed to it?”

  “Well, sure why not?”

  “I thought you weren’t going to accept any invitations.”

  Martin opened his mouth to respond, and then quickly closed it. She was right.

  How could you be so stupid? he asked himself. You’ve been outside of your room for one hour and have already accepted an invitation. Into a hotel basement.

  “It can’t be bad. It’s just a hotel tour,” Martin said, more to assure himself.

  “If you say so. I’m just remembering what you told me.” Sonya looked to Martin with a slight grin, but this wasn’t a laughing matter, not anymore.

  Martin’s mind raced as he thought of all the possibilities. Could the Road Runners have already been ten steps ahead of him and planned a hotel tour to lure Martin away? The idea of a hotel tour seemed strange at first, but he thought nothing of it seeing as it was an historic hotel.

  “Well, we can plan to go, and if anything seems off, we’ll just leave,” Martin said.

  Sonya nodded distantly.

  “Is everything okay?” Martin asked. “You’ve seemed out of it since we got here. Are you nervous about finding your grandparents?”

  “Not so much. I think I’m just tired still. Yesterday took a lot out of me. I’m getting too old for this.”

  Martin understood, as did his sore joints. Maybe on this trip into the past he would focus on eating right and staying in shape. His trip into 1996 saw him give up drinking, at least by his standards, so why not try another self-improvement on this go round?

  “We only have another 40 minutes until the tour starts,” he said, checking his watch. “Anything you want to see around here? Union Station?”

  “I just want to sit down, honestly. Want to grab a drink at the bar?”

  “We might as well, before they take all the alcohol away,” Martin said, still baffled that the government would soon make alcohol illegal. The law of the land, and a complete pile of horseshit. As if removing alcohol would somehow create world peace.

  They found the bar on the other side of the fireplace and sat down for a final drink together.

  73

  Chapter 18

  “Are we going or not?” Sonya asked, slurping down the last of her martini. The drink had brought her back to life, putting a smile on her face and the temptation in her eyes.

  Martin downed two doubles of whiskey and felt ready to conquer the old century, only he dragged his feet for the upcoming tour.

  The clock behind the bar read three minutes till four, and all he wanted was to stay at the bar and drink until midnight. The booze numbed his aches and he didn’t want the sensation to fade. Sonya still wore the long dress she had brought, but he followed the outline of her legs underneath, having a sudden urge to run his hands along her bare skin. A quick romp under the sheets would have everyone feeling normal again.

  “How about we go back to our hotel?” Martin proposed. “Forget about this place. We can come back any time.”

  Sonya giggled. “We’re already here. Let’s just get it over with. How long could it even be?”

  “Okay, then, let’s go before they start without us.”

  Martin slapped a five dollar bill down on the bar top and helped Sonya out of her stool.

  A small group of people gathered in the hotel lobby. There were four men and one woman huddled around the man who had worked behind the front desk. He met Martin’s eyes and waved them over.

  “Good evening, folks,” the man said. “My name is David, and I’ll be guiding you throughout the hotel. This tour should take us approximately 45 minutes. We’ll start here in the lobby, then go down to the basement to work our way back up to the Presidential Suite. The suite is currently vacant so we’ll be able to take a look around.”

  David’s tone had completely changed from earlier when he was a grumpy check-in worker. A new wave of energy spewed from his mouth as he explained the hotel’s brief history.

  Martin felt an instant relief when seeing they wouldn’t be alone on the tour.

  “Where is everyone in town from?” David asked the group.

  “New York,” one man said.

  “We’re from Philadelphia,” the other man said for himself and the woman.

  “Chicago.”

  “Atlanta.”

  “We’re from Texas,” Martin said.

  David nodded. “Welcome to Denver. We’re not nearly as big as any of the places you’re all from, but we hope to be one day. For now, we’re a major destination for people traveling from the east coast to California. That’s what caused this hotel and many others around town to open. There are currently more hotels than houses in downtown Denver, to give you an idea of the surrounding landscape. The Oxford Hotel is proud to be the first hotel that opened for business in Denver in 1890. We opened here due to our close proximity to Union Station, where ninety percent of travelers arrive.”

  David continued with more history about the hotel, its founder, explanations of the artwork on the walls, and anything that could be used in a trivia game later.

  File it right next to all the other useless knowledge in your head.

  After five minutes of random facts, David led the group to the elevator. They shuffled into the small cage and David manually slid the cast iron gate closed. Elevators sure have come a long way, Martin thought. The ancient elevator hummed and clattered to life, the sounds of a million tiny mechanisms grinding in unison as they lowered to the basement level.

  David pulled the gate open and led them into the gloomy basement. The luxury of the main lobby gave way to concrete walls, dim lighting, and pallets with boxes full of hotel equipment.

  They stood in an open space, but a hallway stretched further into the distance to what appeared to be small offices.

  “Here we are,” David said excitedly. “The heart and soul of the hotel. Down here we have a furnace, power generators, freezers, and storage for everything from food to towels. The room we’re in is obviously storage, as you can tell from all of the boxes. The basement is also home to all of the executive offices. There was simply no room in the main building for offices. If you’ll follow me, we can take a quick stroll down the hallway to see the offices.”

  David led the group, Martin and Sonya directly behind him. For feeling like a dungeon when they entered the basement, the row of offices had a more normal appearance. They passed open doors that showed quick snap shots of hotel executives’ lives: family portraits, calendars, inspirational posters. Their desks were wide, or maybe only appeared so from the lack of technology. There were no phones, keyboards, or any of the clutter common in 2018, simply stacks of paper where all work had to be manually completed.

  “This is our main conference room,” David said as they reached the end of the hall, stepping into the largest room of the underground. A chalkboard hung on the wall and overlooked an oval-shaped table with chairs around it.

  “We try to use the hotel’s conference room on the second floor whenever possible, but sometimes we’ll have meetings down here. Please come in.”
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  The tour group filled the room as David crossed to the chalkboard. Martin never heard the door close behind him, let alone the click of it being locked by one of the tour members.

  Two of the men remained in front of the door like bouncers.

  “That was too easy, Martin,” David said with a grin. “Sonya, I thought you said he was smarter than this.”

  Martin stood at the table and looked from David to Sonya, clueless.

  “He is smarter than this. Apparently hotel tours are his weakness,” Sonya said, and the rest of the group erupted in laughter.

  Martin spun around to find everyone looking at him, laughing as if there was an inside joke they all knew about.

  “What is this? What’s going on?” Martin asked, a waver in his voice. He saw the closed door and the two men guarding it. His gut wrenched and his heart beat a little faster.

  “Please, have a seat, Martin, we’re not here to hurt you,” David said in a gentle voice.

  “I demand you tell me what’s going on. And open that door!”

  David shook his head. “That door is staying closed until we have a little talk. Will you please sit down?”

  Martin locked eyes with Sonya, who immediately looked away.

  “Sonya, what is this? What’s going on?”

  Everyone had taken a step back and watched Martin, including Sonya.

  “If you sit down, David will explain everything.”

  Martin obliged, realizing whatever the hell was going on wouldn’t proceed until he sat at the damn table.

  “Thank you,” David said. “Tell me, Martin, what do you know about the Road Runners?”

  Holy fucking shit. This is it. We’re dead. Did they already threaten her? Did she save herself by turning me in?

  Martin’s mouth hung open, his eyes bulging as he scanned the room and realized he had been ambushed by Road Runners. They were all in on the secret.

  “Wait,” Martin said. “How do you know about the Road Runners?”

  Martin knew they were Road Runners, but needed to stall. For what, he didn’t know. For an obvious death, he presumed. Death in the Oxford Hotel basement, where not a soul would hear his screams. In a few years he’d be a ghost haunting these same halls on a future tour.

  He was too flustered to notice that everyone in the room, except for Sonya, had their bodies mostly covered. The men wore suits and gloves on their hands. The other woman wore a dress that ran from her neck to the floor. Martin wanted to see glowing skin, but they all hid it so well. If he could get up close to one of their faces he’d likely see the faintest hint of the golden glow.

  “Martin, we are the Road Runners,” David said. “Well, not just us. There’s thousands of us. But we are part of the team, and we wanted to talk with you about joining us on our mission.”

  Martin thought back to Chris warning him about this exact moment. They’ll do anything once they you have you in their possession. There’s no getting out. He would need to play along, maybe even agree to join, then run away in the middle of the night. Would they follow him if he returned to 2018? Would they find him if he constantly stayed on the run, jumping from year to year? Or would they let him go? Why go through the hassle to get someone who clearly wants no part of your club?

  Martin’s heart pounded ferociously in his throat as he fought to steady his trembling hands.

  “Okay,” he said, gulping. “What do you need to tell me?”

  What kind of stupid question is that? Get your shit together if you wanna get out of here alive.

  “I asked you first,” David replied. “What do you know about the Road Runners?”

  Martin looked around the room, all eyes staring back in anxious anticipation. Sonya still refused to make eye contact. What did you get us into?

  “Okay,” Martin said. He was outnumbered and could only talk his way out of this situation. “All I know is what I’ve been told by Chris. I assume you know who that is.”

  The whole room laughed, David nodding with a cheesy smile. “Oh, yeah, we know him. Let’s hear what he told you about us.”

  “Well, he’s always told me to be on the lookout. That you’re dangerous and will go to any extremes to recruit someone to join the Road Runners.”

  How the fuck did I get into this mess already? Martin felt surprisingly calm once he started talking. Maybe they weren’t as bad as Chris made them out. They had all shared a laugh twice already. Then again, psychotic people laugh, too.

  “He told me to stay on the run, to avoid being captured. He told me there is a war between you and him. He also said you were all responsible for killing Calvin in 1996 by burning down his liquor store.”

  David smirked at this last part and nodded. “Well, it sounds like Chris has fed you a lot of bullshit. I expected as much. We’re used to it. Who knows the last time he’s told the truth?”

  Martin watched Sonya nod to herself, and he could take no more. “Sonya, tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

  All eyes in the room turned to Martin’s girlfriend.

  “I’m sorry, Martin,” she said. “I know this is hard; I was just doing my job.”

  “Doing what job?” Martin demanded. The truth was knocking on his door, but he refused to answer it.

  “My job was to get you here. I’m sorry.” She spoke flatly and stared into space. “I’m a Road Runner, Martin.”

  Martin watched these words hang in the air as all eyes returned their focus to him. The room fell silent as he processed this disturbing truth.

  After a minute, he finally spoke. “So our entire time together has been one big lie? The night we met at the bar, you already knew what the next six months held?”

  “All I knew was that you would be there and I needed you to fall in love with me. I didn’t know how anything would turn out, especially the coma. We would have never let that happen if we knew about it.”

  “So the entire time I thought I was keeping this life and death secret about time travel, and you already knew. You had already done it for yourself? Where are you really from?”

  Sonya shrugged and remained silent.

  Martin fought the urge to vomit. Falling in love with Sonya became the highlight of his trip to 1996, especially after he failed to save Izzy. Sonya, his first true love since Lela, turned out to be a hoax.

  “So it was all a lie?” he asked. “The story about your grandparents. Us. All of it?”

  Sonya nodded.

  “Well, good for you. You must be a professional. You don’t even seem bothered.”

  “Of course I’m bothered,” she snapped. “I just don’t have any emotions. Chris wiped me clean.”

  Martin wanted to leave these people behind and go home to 2018. Hopefully his bar was stocked, because long nights of drinking awaited.

  David spoke. “Look, Martin, there’s a lot to process here. And we fully intend on giving you time to decide, but there are some things you need to know before you leave here today.”

  Martin stared at the table, trying to listen to David as his mind pieced together the lies from the last six months of his 1996 life.

  “Chris is probably the stupidest person you’ll ever meet,” David continued. “He finds people at their weakest and talks them into trying his pills. At that point, it’s too late to turn back. No one who gets a taste of time travel is simply going to walk away from the opportunity to right a wrong in the past. He’s got that much figured out, I’ll give him that. He really does feed on people’s emotions. He loves sorrow and fear, and tries to create that when he exchanges the bottle of Juice.”

  “If Chris is so bad, then why doesn’t he just keep the Juice for himself and leave people emotionally scarred?” Martin asked. “He has no reason to hand it over unless he was honest.”

  “It’s all a big game to him,” David said. “He loves destroying people and watching them try to fix everything. He’s sick. But this is where he gets stupid, you see. He gives the Juice out to so many people and never questions their
loyalty. They enter this realm of time travel thinking it’s going to be some constant life adventure, not that they’ll be forced to choose a side in this war. He doesn’t see the big picture of him continually ruining people’s lives leads to them seeking revenge. That’s where we come in since there are so many of us working to kill him.”

  “Why kill him?” Martin asked. “Why not strip him of his powers, take his pills and potions away?”

  David sat down in the seat across Martin, the tension fading with each question.

  “We need to kill him. He’s trying to infiltrate each era of history, one country at a time. He takes his knowledge from both the past and future and uses it to manipulate the world.”

  Martin recalled when Chris had mentioned he was tending to a war in Africa. Had he caused the war?

  “What about Calvin?” Martin asked.

  David nodded. “We did kill him. He was working for Chris and plotting an attack on us.”

  “So you shot him and burned his store to the ground?”

  David sighed. “This is a war, Martin. It’s not pretty. Our people have died. Their people have died. We’re fighting for a world of prosperity. Do you know how much good can be done with this gift we have?”

  Martin wanted to trust these Road Runners, but they had tricked and lured him into a fake hotel tour. They sent Sonya to manipulate him. They might preach about all the good they do, but their tactics rubbed him the wrong way.

  “Who’s to say Chris isn’t doing good? Why are you so convinced you’re the only ones doing good?” Martin asked, a hint of rage suppressed in his voice.

  “Martin,” David said sternly. “We’ve been following Chris for years. Hundreds of years, or even thousands. It’s hard to tell time for sure when you’re constantly jumping around. We have people in his inner circle, learning more and more. We know what he’s planning. We know he’s not human and can’t be killed through traditional means. He’s very complex, and all we want to do is overthrow him before we live in a world of darkness.”

  “Then why not capture him?” Martin asked. “If you already have your people surrounding him, tie him up and bring him here.”